If you like spring rolls and chopped salads, this is for you.
It was cool enough for soup but warm enough to enjoy a light dinner in our three-season room, with an entertaining view of squirrels at play and birds at the feeders in our backyard. We often joke that the latter is evidence of our aging (or, as my younger husband likes to point out, MY aging).
I’ve eaten variations of this satisfying noodle soup in restaurants. The best story involves my husband and jambonneau in Paris: When visiting our friend Todd in Paris, we were on our own one night and went to a nearby Vietnamese restaurant. I ordered a spicy curry pho bowl. Joe ordered pho with jambonneau (I knew jambon was ham). When the waiter, in verifying the order with his dumb tourist customers, made walking motions with his hand and finger, we thought it was to indicate it was a walking pig, right, as opposed to a fish or bird. You readers smarter than us will realize that it was a pig’s foot, which shocked Joe when his bowl arrived bearing that big jambonneau smack in the middle. I wasn’t bothered, having used smoked ham hocks in split pea soup, and laughed at yet another language faux pas. He never quite recovered during his meal, while I happily slurped on my curry noodles.